Monday, September 10, 2012

The Great East Coast Road Trip Vol. Nine


To catch people up with where I am on my road trip, I started out visiting Penn St. and then moving to New York for a Packer-Giant game, up the coast to Walden Pond, met a guy, Matt, at a bar in Portsmouth who let me tag along to a Cornmeal concert in Portland where I met Jess, traveled further north up to Acadia National Park where I was the first person to see the sunrise in the US and finally over to Millinocket, Maine where you now find me waking up on the Appalachian Trail in the 100 mile Wilderness.

I woke to the most beautiful sight, a snow-covered landscape that had lain hidden from me in the dark of the night.  Shafts of light from the early morning sun fell through the cedars, hemlocks and spruce to emblazon the boughs weighted down with snow.  I went for my camera to take a picture, only to find it didn’t work.  While reading the trail register the previous night at the Hurd Brook shelter, I thought it would be a great idea to have my camera fall off my leg onto the wooden floor.  I didn’t think anything of it at the time.  I now turned the camera on, but the screen was black.  Ugh.  I discovered that I could see the pictures I had already taken so it must’ve been something with the lens.  Fearing the worst, I did the only reasonable thing; I banged it against the wall.  Voila!  She was back up and running!



I thoroughly enjoyed the hike back to my car, it’s not every day you can wake up and hike on the Appalachian Trail by yourself in the majesty of early winter splendor.  Back at the car, I had to figure out where the rest of the day was going to take me.  Rangeley was my ultimate destination but I didn’t know how to get there.  Roads are scarce in the winter in the interior of Maine.  I decided I should head back through Bangor because I wanted another bottom base layer for whatever lay ahead the rest of my trip. 


I found the mall and a Dick’s Sporting Goods in Bangor, which had the base layer I wanted (it might get cold later!).  While I was waiting in line, I got a phone call and message from a number I didn’t recognize so I ignored it.  On the way to my car, I listened to the message and it was Matt from earlier in my trip!  Boy did he have some news for me.  He had been tooling around on Craigslist Maine and came across a listing in the “missed connections” section that he thought had to be directed towards me.  I went to McDonald’s to use their Wi-Fi and check out Craigslist.  Here is what the post said:

Met you at Cornmeal - w4m
Date: 2011-12-10, 3:41PM
It was so nice meeting you Thursday night. I enjoyed talking to you about road trips and geology. Wished I'd given you my number if you are heading back through Portland on your way back from Acadia. I hope you are enjoying your time in the north woods. 

   Location: Portland, Maine

Holy Cow!  I guess I left an impression with my hoboness.  What the hell do I do now?  I’ve never used Craigslist and I didn’t have plans to go back through Portland, but plans have a way of changing.  When I called Matt back, he invited me over to his place a few days later when I was in New Hampshire so I looked it up and Portland was only an hour or so from where I was going to be.  Maybe this could work!  I was nervous to all hell trying to figure out this Craigslist thing and what to do.  I emailed her back to say her post actually worked and see what we could work out. 

The afternoon was getting on so I had to hit the road up to Rangeley, still planning on sleeping in the woods that night.  On the drive up, I was in disbelief at the chances of what just happened, happened.  I had to meet Matt at a bar in Portsmouth, then tag along with him to Portland for a Cornmeal concert, had to meet and talk to Jess, had to exchange numbers with Matt, Jess had to post on Craigslist and then Matt had to see the post and call me.  Wow.  That’s my life I guess.  Helluva trip!

It was dark and drizzling by the time I rolled into Rangeley.  Screw camping in the woods tonight.  I found the cheapest (and only) motel in town to spend the night.  My gear needed a good drying and I hadn’t showered in a week (I think I was more concerned about my gear than my smell…).  I checked my email and found Jess had responded.  We planned on meeting up in a few days so she could show me around Portland and check out her favorite beaches in the area.  Crazy!  After cleaning up and eating, I knew I needed a drink.  There were two choices; the bowling alley that had a packed parking lot or a townie bar called Sarge’s located on Main Street.  What do you think I chose? 


I walked into Sarge’s, completely unaware of what was inside.  People were packed in the back of the bar, singing karaoke and having a great time.  What the hell did I get myself into?  I took the closest seat to the action, which happened to be at the end of the bar, behind a pillar, blocking myself from the craziness.  I kept to myself, watching the Bruins game and not really caring.  People were going behind the bar, serving up drinks when the bartender went to sing karaoke.  Did I mention there were multiple good-looking ladies at the bar having a good time?  Did I also mention that it was a Tuesday?  This did not seem like a regular Tuesday.  I learned from the bartender that it was the bar’s holiday party.  That makes more sense.

Rangeley in the daylight
I hung by myself, out of the action, because striking up a conversation involved me escaping from my hiding place and joining the fray (It’s easier to talk to one or two people than a bar full of strangers).  I paid my tab and got up to leave when this girl came over to ask if I was the person she sold her car to last year.  Being new to the area, I thought this was implausible.  I said no, but we struck up a conversation.  She invited me to join the party and, being a drifter, I could not pass that offer up.  The first person she introduced me to was Sarge, as in Sarge’s Sports Pub and Grill.  “What do you drink?” he asked me. 
Not wanting to be rude or imposing, I said, “whatever you want.”
Sarge looked at the bartender and said “3 shots of tequila.”
Well it looks like the party was just starting.  The shots came and I took mine like a champ.  A few seconds later, Sarge turned around and pushed the last shot in front of my face. 
“Here’s your shot!” Sarge proclaimed.
“I already had my shot,” I said in less than forceful terms.
“Here’s your shot” he repeated.
Shit. “Yes sir.”

The night progressed and I got talking to my new friend’s dad.  He used to coach basketball for the Maine Black Bears and, being a college basketball nerd, I knew all about Maine and the teams in the America East Conference.  I was having a great time talking to the locals and learning a little about the area.  We migrated out to the patio where a gentle snow had begun to fall.  They were complaining about the lack of snow up in Maine too.  The ski hill down the road was finally opening the coming weekend so people were getting ready for the winter tourism season. 


After more drinks and merriment, I decided it was time to head out.  On my way back to the motel I noticed a sign I had missed earlier.  Turns out Rangeley is also halfway between the North Pole and Equator.  If I headed west along the 45th parallel into Wisconsin, I’d end up in Cadott (the place God forgot).  Interesting.  



I went to bed after another crazy day on the East Coast.  My next few days were tentatively planned out.  I’d head to the White Mountains for a night, then onto Matt’s the following evening, maybe back into the White’s for another night and then finally return to Portland to get the grand tour from Jess.  What mischief could I get into with a schedule like that?  Turns out plenty.

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